Honor
by chiterkins
Summary: You've tried to live your life with honor. Helo centric


Disclaimer: I don't own anything - the man does. This was just for fun (so I could play with Helo a little).

* * *

You remember the day you were accepted into the academy – still finishing up your last year of school, listening to your friends and schoolmates talk of their plans to attend university, to become lawyers and doctors and businessmen (and women), and how some of them wanted to go into politics, while others just wanted to make money. You were not one of them. You wanted to do something with your life, make something of it. You wanted to live a life of honor.

So you applied to the academy. You didn't tell anyone about it, didn't discuss this life-changing decision with anyone, you just did it. As far as your family knew, you were going to the university just like your brothers had.

But that day, you got home, and the letter was waiting for you. "Dear Karl Agathon," it said, "we are happy to welcome you to the class of 3479." You had never been happier. Didn't think you could be happier.

Your family was not as ecstatic as you had expected them to be. They didn't understand why you wanted to dedicate your life to service. They thought, if anything, you would do a few years, earn some money towards university, then go on. But, being your family, they loved and supported you and let you make your own way in life. Something you hope to pass on to your children.

The academy is where you met Kara Thrace. Where you learned there were many different ways to serve in the Fleet, and just as many different people. And with each new person, there was a new purpose, a new reason to join the Fleet. Most joined for a few years, to pay for school or to appease their parents. A couple joined because they had no other place to go. But there were a few of those who joined for the same reasons you did. For honor. To make a difference.

When you were assigned to the Galactica, you found a couple of such people. Anastacia Dualla. Felix Gaeta. You never spoke to them about it, never formed a club "Joined for the honor of service" or any such nonsense. You just knew. You knew by how Dee would always stay at her post past her shift to help the newbies get back into the hanger. You knew by Gaeta's need to come into work a few minutes early, just to make sure the systems were all working before he needed to be at attention. And you figured they knew about you, too. The way Dee would nod at you in the head, or Gaeta would say hi when passing you in the mess. You felt a connection to them, regardless of who was a pilot, or an officer, or any other reason that could divide the crew in this fractured environment.

You gave up your seat at the end of the world because of that honor. You knew that Baltar would do better on Galactica than you would. There, you were just another ECO, the guy who had a fixation for lollipops, who had to duck when entering rooms, who had a ready smile and didn't have a notch post on his bed – which was a good thing, because you've had run out of room by now. But Baltar – he was one of the greatest mind of your generation. He could figure out why this happened, help the Commander with the next step. In a sense, his life was worth more than yours. No matter how hard it was for you to watch Boomer take off without you; the only girl you've ever really had feelings for, watching her fly away from you was different than she walked away. But you did it anyway. You knew it was the right choice.

When she came back for you, you almost didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. How could she have walked away from everyone and everything – from the end of the world – just to bring you back? You weren't that important. Not to Galactica, not to the old man. Certainly not to her. Sharon had the Chief, she didn't need you. But you didn't question, didn't waiver from the fact that she had. No one wants to look a gift horse in the mouth, after all.

The realization that Cylons look like humans now and that Sharon is one come as one world-changing surprise (can a world change that has already ended?) after another. You feel tired and aching, and can't figure out what game is playing or who's playing it, but you know that you're just one pawn, and as unimportant as you were the day you watched Boomer (which one?) leave you on the planet. Then she tells you she's pregnant, and you're the father.

That sense of honor, of service, comes rushing back to you. No longer intent on just surviving, you have to thrive, you have to protect and serve – your child. Something that has become more important to than the Colonial Fleet has finally found itself on your radar. So you find yourself stopping Starbuck (Starbuck! Back on Caprica? What is going on??) from killing your Cylon lover. You can't let her go, you can't let the one woman you've ever loved, the woman who is carrying your child, to just leave your life like that. Your honor and sense of duty and, yes, love, prevent it. And at the same time, it doesn't surprise you when she leaves during your argument with Kara. And you try to not let it bother you.

You and Kara meet up with the Resistance, and you're all for staying and finding a new purpose; the Fleet is so far away, after all, and you've been down here the whole time. The idea of killing some skin jobs is rather appealing to you. But she's on a mission, and she's Kara, and you're used to following her lead. Losing her – again – was too hard, and you knew you had to at least find her body, and complete her mission.

And then Sharon showed up again. Your Sharon. You knew it, deep down inside, that she was yours, exclusively, from now on. And you knew, in the deepest part of your soul, that she knew what it was to have honor, to want to serve. That she was different in an infinitesimal but unmistakable way from the Sharon that is – that _was_ – on Galactica. She helped you get Kara back, she came back to Galactica with you, knowing what the consequences could very well be, and she did it anyway. For you. To her, you were important. She turned her back on everything and everyone she'd ever held dear or believed, and just for you. There was nothing you could do to explain to her how much that meant to you.

Being back on Galactica was as hard – and as easy – as you thought it would be. Watching Sharon live in that cell was something you barely were able to do. Barely. And it helped that she was calm throughout the entire process. Until the end. But, still. Her strength helped you. She seemed sure that no matter what, she would prove herself to the old man, to this new President (who you will never like, no matter what she does. Throwing anyone out an airlock is horrific.) and that someday, she would be able to be with you and your baby together without having a gun aimed at her.

Until you meet up with Pegasus. These were people who had no honor left, who were no longer a part of the Fleet for the good – they devoured upon the evil. They became Cylon by trying to beat them. You are glad you never saw what they did to their Cylon – you can't use the word "prisoner" - and even after all that came from it, you would always go and rescue Sharon from them. You don't mind that those men died. A part of you was almost glad. Your heart broke, to see your girl lying there, under the bed, the blanket over her as she unloaded from what happened – _almost happened,_ you repeat under your breath, as if the repetition would change something – and feel, for the first time, the evils of mankind.

You continue to serve, you continue to search for honor. And you continue to find none. You're glad you didn't know that the President had thought about killing your child, before she was saved by it. You keep hoping (where does the hope come from? Same place as your honor) that the now Admiral will do the honorable thing and let you and Sharon be together. You wonder, late at night (night, in space, what an odd concept) in your pilot's bunk, how many more hoops she's going to jump through before you've both proven yourselves for him. For her, Madame President.

And then your baby is born. Hera is born, and for a brief moment, you feel more than you can ever feel about anything. You love this little person, this little girl who already looks so much like her mother that you know you will love her for the rest of her life. Which, you find out, is not that long. She dies, and you watch Sharon die with her.

You don't know how to explain that to people. Sharon died the moment you both found out about Hera. She was there, she walked, she breathed, she even talked occasionally, but the woman you loved – the woman filled with love and honor and courage – she died. And you knew it, you knew it when you went back to Caprica with Starbuck (to get back her Anders, though she didn't say it), you knew it when you came back and found out that Brother Cavil was a Cylon. You saw her give up, saw her lose her belief in the people.

You don't remember much of the next few months. You know that there was an election, and that Baltar won. You know that people were going to a new planet, a new colony, to form "New Caprica" and to start over. You weren't a part of that. You remember taking over more and more duties as Lee was moved to Pegasus, Kara went down to the planet (and you vaguely remembering something happening there, but you're not quite sure what), and Cally and the Chief got pregnant and moved down too. You were busy.

Bringing Sharon back to life took time. It took effort. You remember wanting to quit at some point, and hating yourself for it. You're quite sure there was a time you almost hated her. You had lost a child too, you remember trying to point out logically one night (you were fairly drunk at the time, though, so you weren't sure how logical you were being) and you hurt, and wanted to crawl back into a hole and die. But you didn't. You had too much honor to do so. You told her, over and over again, that you were living for her, that you couldn't live without her, that she needed to come back to you. You stay outside her cell for hours, tears down your face as you shout at her, trying to get her to hear you, see how much you need her, how important she is to you. You look, every day, for a glimpse of that girl back Caprica, that woman who first walked into the cell, and told you it would take time. You want nothing but to go back, tell her the two of you could live on Caprica, turn your back on your people – knowing it would have never worked, knowing you have too much honor for that, but knowing you would have done it, would have died for it, if it meant she could keep living.

And, one day, you see a glimmer of Sharon. You see her look at you like you're you, like you're Helo, Karl, the man she loves. You're not just another _human_, but you're you. It's brief, and for a second you weren't sure you saw it, but you felt that fleeting feeling of hope once again. You keep talking to her, keep trying to reach her, and you watch as she slowly, agonizingly, comes back to the world of the living. You get to hold her in your arms as you both cry, again, over Hera. You watch as the Admiral makes concession after concession to her cell, and you find yourself smiling more and more.

You're grinning the day he marries you, in his office. When Sharon officially becomes Sharon Agathon, and you have a wife. And the Admiral invites the both of you to dinner with him once a week. And that, after a while, the dinner includes Lee and Dee, and Tigh and Ellen. You feel as though people have finally accepted your love, and by extension, you. You know that you never gave up your honor, no matter how tempting it was.

So when Adama tells you that Tigh and Ellen are going planetside, and that he's in need of an XO, you smile and accept as honorably as you can, knowing you're going to whoop and waller when you're back in quarters with Sharon.

And the world ends. Again. The Cylon comes to New Caprica, and you cannot do anything but jump away. You spend 5 months in agony, wanting to help those who were down on the planet, waiting for Adama or Lee to demand that Sharon sacrifice something (again) to help them, for someone to throw her back in the cell and...it never happens. To the people still here, Sharon is part of the crew. Something had changed since before, if only time had passed. But Sharon was never interrogated, never even questioned. You work with the Adam men, trying to find a way to rescue all the people still on New Caprica, and no one questions your honor, your service. You find yourself taken aback by that, so used you were to being a suspicious person, that you don't know what to do with this acceptance, this knowledge of who and what you are.

When Tigh contacts Adama, and he tells you and Sharon that he needs her again, you immediately think the worse. Then he offers her a position in the Fleet, and you stop thinking. You know it's what she wants – and even if you hadn't, you would have realized it by the way her eyes lit up. Finally, everything she's been through – the sacrifices (not Hera), the jail time, the torture – it has all paid off. She was finally where she wanted to be.

After the 2nd Exodus, things almost fall back into place. There are people on board who are suspicious of Sharon, because of everything that happened to them on New Caprica. You are surprised that both Kara and Tigh seem to lead this movement, but you realize that they're against anyone who wasn't on New Caprica, and some days, against everyone who was. You find yourself becoming less and less useful in CIC, as Adama has his original XO back, and you go back to flying, which some days is good and some days is better. You and Sharon (_Athena_, you think and smile, as your girl has finally gotten back what she always wanted) are flying again, you're together, things are good. Yes, you were the guy who was shouting for Cylon rights to the President and Adama, and yes, you got lectured for not going down to New Caprica (because you were too busy cleaning up the mess that others had made, and trying to save the woman you loved), but you knew you were right and you think Adama did too, and it seemed to end in your favor. So when the next bombshell drops, you're not expecting it, even though in hindsight, you probably should have been.

Hera is alive. Hera is ALIVE. And the President kept her from you. The President, this woman who has been President twice, and never been elected to the position, decided that she could not let you have your baby, that she did not trust a_Cylon_, and took her from you. This woman, who let the Cylon take your baby. You're surprised you could stay in the same room with her. How dare she come and lecture you about the consequences of your actions. You just shot your wife, you stayed and watched as the life leave her body, as she left you, and even knowing it wasn't the complete end, even knowing there was a place she would be reborn, that she would get your child and bring her back, so you could all be together, still...you had just lived through the hardest thing you've ever done in your life (and considering your life, that's saying a lot) and this **woman** has the nerve to lecture you about responsibilities and danger to the Fleet.

Seeing your daughter again, looking into her eyes (she still looked so much like her mother), you knew a peace you had not known. Or a peace you thought you had known, but you had lost. You are finally able to hold your wife and your daughter.

But as things start to look up personally, as you finally are able to be with the woman you love, to be a father to your daughter, of course things everywhere else goes wrong. Instead of being XO, you're shunted to the side for Tigh's drunken return. Instead of flying, you're told you have too much administrative experience to be wasted. So you become lord of Dogsville. You are the one dealing with all the refugees who have come to Galactica because (there's no where else to go) they supposedly have the extra space. You, however, try to look at it in a positive light. You are finally serving the people, doing everything you can to help them in this horrible time. You feel like you've found a purpose again, that for the first time since you gave up your seat nearly 3 years before, you're doing something that is bigger than you. And, strangely, regardless of the stress and the people and the military, you find yourself liking it. You know you were the best person to ask, and you think that maybe Adama appointed you not because he had no other place to put you, but because he knew you'd do the most for the people.

And then Dr. Roberts comes in, and the Sagitarrons with their prejudices, and you start to feel like you're back to being that guy that no one listens to you. You know there's something going on, there's a feeling in the air and you don't trust Dr. Roberts, but when you try to explain yourself, you get into a fist fight with Tigh and Adama telling you not to pursue it and Cottle (Cottle! Of all people to go against you!) telling you that you're doing more harm than good. But your sense of right and wrong won't leave you alone, like the King woman won't leave you alone, and you keep trying to save people who don't want to be saved (though with Dee, she doesn't need to be saved, which you didn't realize till the end) and sure, Tigh finally looks at you with respect, and the Admiral won't let you finally fall on your sword, but in the end, you're still not sure what you're fighting for anymore. Until you come home, and you see your wife holding your child, and you know exactly who you're fighting for. The fighting hasn't changed – but the cause has.

Kara dies, and you start to wonder if even that is true. Starbuck kicks it – and the truly crazy thing is that she **let** go. Kara frakking Starbuck Thrace holds onto everything with white knuckles, be it men, full colors, or life. It didn't matter. You weren't sure she knew the meaning of the phrase "to let go" but you listen to the wireless, you hear her tell Lee to leave, and you find yourself wondering what happened to that cocky nugget you met who was sure she was going to be the best and brightest in the cockpit – and who was right. Who joked about hitting "superior assholes" and fell in love with a boy with soulful eyes , breaking the only rules she held dear, and paying dearly for it. Where did she go? Did she disappear into the cell she was held up in during the Occupation? Or was she slipping away before? You can't remember the last time you spent time with Kara, when you played Triad til the wee hours of morning, or joked around during a CAP, or endured her ridicules about being ECO – and, you think, that's what this whole thing has taken from me. Not my honor, as you were so worried about, but friendship. Outside of your family, you have no real friends, no real comrades. Sure, you helped Lee lose the commander weight, and yeah, you, Dee, and Gaeta, still do the head-nodding thing and occasional hi's in CIC, but you don't talk. You heard there was something going on with Gaeta after the 2nd Exodus, and you know that Lee and Dee were having problems – and, if you recall, Starbuck and Anders were also going through something at the same time – but you were too wrapped up in getting your family back to really pay attention. And as much as you miss Kara, are you really that upset? You know that you are, but that you still made the right choice; the choice of family over friends.

You joined the fleet to live a life of honor, and you think, looking back, that even with everything that happened, with the apocalypse (is there a plural form of the word?) or three that happened along the way, you have. Your view on what is honorable, what to hold dear, may have changed, but the way you are hasn't. You have spent everyday, living with a code of honor unbreakable, unlike the laws. Regardless of the tyrannical admirals or manipulate presidents, of a hostile population or even unfriendly friends, you have always done the honorable thing. Even if no one believed you (at first) or agreed with you (at all), it didn't matter. Life never took the direction you thought it would, but then, especially now, did anyone expect this? You know that part of the reason you've been able to stay honorable when others (Apollo, Tyrol, even Cally) were not is because you weren't in their positions, but still, you know that at the end of the day, you are able to say you lived with honor, you served to the best of your ability, and you are content to go back to your family and continue to serve them.

So when you finally reach Earth, you look at your family and friends, at the rag tag fleet that traveled all this way, and you grin the day you were able to walk your little girl to school (though, she was too old to have her daddy walk her places, and she was old enough to tell you that) without having to worry about the Cylon, or where your dinner was coming from, or how you were going to get through the day. And you come home to your wife, already showing a bump, and are happy to just be. You'll teach the next generation what it means to have honor, to live a life of service. Your duty to mankind is finally over, and you couldn't be happier. After all, how many people get to live out their dream, and have no regrets?


End file.
